Rose Petals in the Rain
by HungryForTheGamesGirls
Summary: It's been over a decade since the gong sounded at the 74th annual Hunger Games, and more importantly to Clove; Cato's death. Left shaken due to this traumatic event, she is left to mentor District 2's future tributes; Cato's twin siblings. The bloodlust children have a past unknown to Clove, leaving her in greater danger than she was when she entered the arena herself.
1. Chapter 1

**Rose Petals in the Rain**

**Author's Note: I have always been a Clato fan, much to the disaproval of my Peeta/Katniss loving bestfriends. I started roughing out my pre-planning for this story a few months ago, but a couple days past I actually sat myself down at my computer to write this damn thing. So far, this is my favourite fanfiction, so I hope you guys enjoy this dramatic little one. :) Tsk tsk.. Suzanne Collins should have talked more about the Starcrossed lover of District 2.. Lmaoooo :D**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Cato or Clove or the Games, just in case you thought that.. :P**

"_Cato!" I screamed in panic, "Help!" Cato ran across the bloodstained field and thrust himself towards Thresh, pushing him to the ground. "Kill him Cato! Kill him now!" I yelled, Katniss running off to the woods unnoticed. Thresh grasped a handful of soil that was building up beside him, and jerked it into Cato's eyes. Cato lay struggling on the field, trying to wipe the soil from under his eyelids. With a 150 pound boulder that rested at the tail of the Cornucopia, Thresh lifted it in his arms, dropping the rock onto Cato's chest. He screamed a horrible yell in agony, and then it all went silent. I tossed my knife to Thresh's neck; he landed on the ground, his blood soaking through his jacket. _

It has been 11 years, nine months, twenty eight days, four hours and fifty seven minutes since the gong sounded at the 74th annual Hunger Games. Blurred visions of Cato's death haunt me as I walk along the Wall of Victors; a ceremony I was forced to attend. I cringe as the Capitol replays the highlights of my games; the peacekeeper smirks at my reaction.

I am standing in a lengthy building situated at the heart of the Capitol. Along both walls hung row after row of pictures and videos of the past victors; myself included. I slid my finger tip along the frame of the photo that portrayed Cato's slaughter. It had become quite popular since the end of my games; the Capitol had used it as a cover photo for the recap DVD's as well as advertising posters for several years. I starred at the tile floor, remembering that fatal morning in the arena. _He could have survived. _I repeated in my mind for what might have been the five hundredth time. _If I wouldn't have panicked and screamed for his name, Cato would have been crowned victor instead of me._

I jerked my head up to the sound of Enobaria's voice. She smiled and locked index fingers with me; our form of a handshake.

"How have you been doing, kid?" Enobaria asked.

"You and I both know that you don't really care." I smirked.

"You know me too well, Clovers."

"Damn right I do."

She eyed the shrimp on the refreshments table, plucking one from the crystal dish and dropping it greedily into her mouth.

"Still pissed that they dragged me here in the first place…" She slurred.

"I'm not too pleased about it either, thanks for asking."

The lights suddenly dimmed, and a pleased President Snow walked up to the podium that was sitting on a large pedestal behind the refreshment table.

"Greeting tributes, mentors, and district representatives. We have gathered here today to celebrate the victors among us, and relive their Games and their triumphs."

The crowd erupted in cheers and applause.

"As you should already know, the citizens of Panem will be waking up to their District reaping tomorrow morning. The selected tributes will be then assigned a mentor to whom they will look to for guidance and support. Today, I am here to select future mentors for the given districts. These are in random order."

Snow cleared his throat briefly, the spectators holding their breaths.

Since around the time of the 75th Hunger Games, it has been considered a great honour to be asked to be mentor. The outlining districts have few victors; therefore it is not such a thrill. I personally hated the thought of becoming a mentor; I hated the friendship and bond that formed between my tributes and I. I hated to see them die before my very eyes. I hated preparing them for a game that was impossible to win.

Normally, the occasional victor would volunteer for the position, but this past decade has grown on people; the Games aren't becoming just a part of their world now. The Games _is _their world, and they'll do anything in their power to become more involved. That's why we have the victor ceremony; it a reaping for the past winners.

"District 8; Cecelia Trenwally."

"District 4; Finnick Odair."

"District 1; Cashmere Keller."

"District 11; Seeder Quantabora."

"District 9; Ellatrix Wellings."

"District 12; Haymitch Abernathy."

"District 5; Axel Utag."

"District 7; Johanna Mason."

"District 3; Wiress Buler."

"District 6; Peter Sidings."

"District 10; Talia Opus."

"And finally, District 2; Clove Melstroy."

I groaned a sigh of frustration as President Snow smirked down at me, his eyes meeting mine with an air of satisfaction.

"Congratulations to our future mentors, you shall arrive at your District reaping tomorrow promptly at ten thirty, as your reaping shall begin at noon. Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be _ever _in your favour."

"I don't want anything to do with these God damn Games, Enobaria." I muttered.

"None of us really do."

"We were raised to win. Now that we have, why aren't we happy?"

Enobaria smirked. " We live in Panem, Clove. This isn't the 21st century anymore; when there was a cure for everything and that screwed up thing they called world peace. We expect bad things to happen, it's in our blood."

"Yeah, the blood that the Capitol intends on spraying the streets with."

She nodded her head and washed down her last sip of wine.

"Go home, Clove. You've got a big day tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

**Rose Petals in the Rain, Part 2  
**_  
2:30 am, Reaping Day- 85__th__ Annual Hunger Games_  
I woke from my plush bed in the Victor's Village to find my bed covers drenched to the mattress in cold sweat. I rubbed my fingers into my temple and got up to stare out of my window, a clear view of District 2 and its flashing lights. Somewhere in the distance, teenage girls and boys were huddled in a dimly-lit gym at the nut of the District, training furiously in hopes of becoming the Victor of the 85th annual Hunger Games.  
It was a District tradition, to gather careers in the training gym to complete training before being whisked to the Capitol. I remember my pre-reaping training just about as vividly as the games themselves.  
_2:00am, Reaping Day- 74__th__ Annual Hunger Games_  
It was well past 2:00am and my hands were shaking from exhaustion as I sliced the final training dummy with one swift and abrupt motion. Enobaria smiled weakly at me from her seat at the front-end of the room.  
"You'll be fine, Clove. Get to bed, already- everyone else has left."  
I looked around the room; I was the only one left- like I would have noticed anyways.  
"Just a few minutes, I just want to brush up with my rope work…" I replied.  
"Clove, you need to get to sleep."  
"I can sleep when I'm dead." I shot back impatiently.  
"That won't be for a good long while, Clovers."  
I didn't realise then how much I she was right.  
_5:30am, Reaping Day- 85__th__ Annual Hunger Games_  
I slowly walked back to my bed, though I didn't sleep at all.  
The sun awoke the next morning around the same time as Enobaria, who was sleeping at my place for the night, while her home was being renovated.  
"Coffee?" I offered as she walked into the kitchen, pyjamas still on.  
"Yeah, two sugars."  
"Slept well last night?" I asked politely.  
"I slept just as well as you bloody well did."  
I shot her a look.  
"I could hear your feet shuffling and I knew you weren't going back to sleep." She explained. I sighed.  
"I couldn't help but think about myself last night, eleven years ago. I mean, if a game is not in your favour, why play at all?" I shuddered, trying to avoid flashbacks.  
"But you won, Clove. Shouldn't you be pleased? You survived."  
"Twenty-three other people weren't so lucky, Enobaria. Five of them were careers who thought they knew that they were going to win. All that got them was a bloody death that they didn't deserve."  
_10:30, Reaping Day- 85__th__ Annual Hunger Games  
_As the annual Hunger Games video flashed upon the screen, I looked down at the carefully placed careers in the first two rows. They generally tended to situate themselves closer to the stage then the rest of District 2 in hopes of being able to volunteer faster than the rest of their fellow careers. There was a thin girl in the front row with long wavy hair that fell down her back that shot me a glance and smirked. She nudged the boy next to her and pointed to me, they chuckled. I turned away and directed my attention to Zephyr who was giving her normal pre-reaping babble.  
"And without further ado, I would like to present this year's female tribute for District 2."  
She spun her hand into the contents of the girl's bowl.  
"Klux Mellanthbee."  
All at once, two dozen female bodies pushed to the front of the square.  
"I volunteer as tribute!" Was shouted loudly several times.  
"Silence!" Screeched Zephyr. "Clove, select a female tribute."  
My eyes darted around the room. Among the girls in the first two rows with raised hands was a strong built sixteen year old with a thick bob of blonde hair. Her ice blue eyes resembled greatly of Cato's.  
"Her. The one with the short blonde hair near the center."  
She smirked and walked to the stage.  
"Now, for the boys." Zephyr announced. " Sam Sutra."  
Again, dozens of boys raised hands and yelled "I volunteer as tribute."  
I selected another sixteen year old, this one with thick dirty blonde bangs that covered his eyes.  
"Now, shake hands." Zephyr demanded. The two of them sniggered. "Anything you would like to say?"  
The blonde girl took the microphone. "Not only will one of us win our games for our parents, but one of us will win it for our brother and best friend who has died in the Games."  
Zephyr looked puzzled. "Who was your brother?"  
The boy looked grim, as did his sister.  
"Cato Collins."  
The square went silent.


End file.
